Where is he? (Marker anxiety fic)
by broggy
Summary: After Roger is out late, trying to land a gig at the pyramid club, without telling Mark, since he wants to surprise him, Mark panics. (In this headcanon, Mark has anxiety and cant afford his medication, since he only has enough for Roger's AZT.)


**Headcanon by the wonderful: Angelindeed! Rent fic tumblr: .com**

**reviews are appreciated! enjoy!**

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_ "Four hours… he's been gone for four hours now…"_ Mark thought, looking up at the old clock on the , Roger goes out occasionally, but this wasn't like him at all. He was gone when Mark had returned from filming. He hadn't left a note, he hadn't called. Mark forced himself to take a deep breath. Roger would be fine… he could handle himself. He glanced out the window. The clock read 8:30 pm.

_"I'm sure he wont be out later than ten…"_ Mark thought, his eyes scanning the streets below nervously. Still, he couldn't push away the thoughts that were running rampant through his mind. A voice in his head started talking quickly. _"What if he got jumped? What if he got high? What if he's dying on the side of the road, crying out for help, and you're sitting here doing NOTHING?"_

Mark rose from his spot at the window sill, and made his way over to the kitchen. Tea would calm him down. He couldn't help but notice his own shaking hands. _"Deep breaths, just don't panic. Just don't panic. Please don't panic…"_he thought, making his drink silently.

The next few hours were torturous. Tea didn't do him any good. He ended up throwing up the little contents in his stomach, which made him feel worse. The clock now read ten thirty. He decided to go looking for his friend. Pulling on his coat, he stepped out into the freezing rain outside.

"Roger!" he called, his shaking only becoming worse. _"He left you. He abandoned you. He hates you. You fucked up big time"_ spoke the voice in his head again. Mark shook his head, murmuring quietly. "He wouldn't ever leave me…"

After two more hours of wandering the streets of alphabet city with no luck, and the rain picking up, Mark had no choice but to return to the empty loft. The clock now read two thirty. Two thirty in the morning, and Roger was long gone. Mark couldn't control it anymore. A strangled sob escaped his lips, and he sank down to the floor against the wall, his pathetic frame shaking, not just from the cold now.

He gasped for air. He couldn't breathe. His shaking only became worse, and he couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face. His cries echoed around the desolate loft. Ten minutes later. Roger Davis slid open the loft door, a genuine smile on his stubbly face. His guitar was slung across his back, and his long blonde hair shone in the moonlight.

"Mark, I'm home! guess what I g-" he soon stopped as he saw his friend in a terrible state on the floor, his face pale, and his body shaking. Roger knew the second he heard one strangled cry, that Mark was having a panic attack. Roger quickly abandoned his guitar, and ran to his friend's side.

"R-Rog- I- where- i'm sorry.." stuttered Mark, grabbing a hold of Roger's shoulders, as if needing reassurance that his friend was really there, and not dead in an alley somewhere. Roger quickly Pulled Mark into his arms, and rubbed comforting circles into the filmmaker's back.

"Shhhhh…. it's okay… Mark, I'M sorry… i'm so sorry… I should have called, or left a note… I didn't mean to scare you…" Roger shivered as he realized how cold the smaller man was. "You went out in the rain?" he asked.

Mark managed a nod, and a shaky response. "I looked outside but you weren't there… I thought you left me… I thought you hated me…" This only caused the rocker to hold him tighter.

"Mark, I would never leave you… I could never hate you… I love you.. I need you… never forget that, okay?" Whispered Roger, inhaling Mark's familiar scent. Mark Buried his face in the crook of Roger's neck, finding comfort in the warmth of his best friend's arms.

"I wont… I love you Roggy…" Mark murmured, and Roger, still rubbing his back, and rocking him gently, smiled.

"Not as much as I love you, Marky.." he replied. Mark soon managed to calm down, his breathing returning to normal. Roger was about to tell him that he got a gig at the pyramid club, but he noticed the Albino had fallen asleep. Roger smiled, kissing Mark's forehead, and resting his face against his strawberry blonde hair. It wasn't long before the leather jacket wearing man had fallen asleep himself.

As long as Mark had Roger, and Roger had Mark, things would be fine. The future didn't matter right now. Time seemed to stop as the loft was now filled with the comforting slow breathing of the pair.

__**There we are! sorry it's taking me so long to get these fics done, i'm lazy, and have chores and other boring shit to do… enjoy! once again, thanks so much Angelindeed for the good idea! sorry this one is so short!**


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